


Domestic Moments

by meyoco



Category: Magi - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyoco/pseuds/meyoco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Sindrian couple is less chaotic and more domestic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Moments

**Author's Note:**

> A random drabble made after I surfed Pixiv, Tumblr, AO3, and FFn for SinJa for god knows how long. I've always wanted to know how their daily life in the Sindrian palace would be like, hence I wrote this lol. I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

“Wake the fuck up, Sin.”

The dark haired man grumbled at the invading hand shaking him awake. He turned his nude back away and tried to bury himself once more in the warm sheets.

“Sin.”

“Shaddup…” Sinbad groaned.

Ja’far touched his king’s dark hair, treading his fingers through the messy strands. Sinbad purred in satisfaction, like a cat having its fur brushed.

“You’ve got a country to run. Get up now.”

Sinbad didn’t reply, only burrowing himself further in the warmth of his bed. Ja’far sighed and sat up, intent on getting a bath first and come back later to slap some sense into the petulant king. However, before he could get anywhere, a warm, strong hand captured his wrist.

“I want my morning kiss, Ja’far.”

Ja’far sighed once more, hiding traces of a smile. He scratched his messy silver hair and said, “Only if you wake up now, Sin.”

At first, there was no reply. But then, with one surprisingly agile move, the sheets were thrown and Ja’far found his naked body within his king’s warm embrace. Ja’far inhaled Sinbad’s strong, musky smell, and felt his back arc with need as warm, soft lips captured his.

As their lips parted, Ja’far found himself staring into Sinbad’s tender smile, bright as Sindria’s morning sunshine.

“Good morning, Ja’far.”

“Good morning, Sinbad,” Ja’far smiled.

* * *

“Your lunch, Ja’far.”

Ja’far lifted his head from the endless pile of scrolls on his desk. He glanced at the window and saw that the sun was already high in the sky. As usual, the heat was near unbearable in his office, but Ja’far never really minded anyway.

“Later, your highness. I suggest you enjoy your meal on your own.”

Ja’far didn’t hear an answer, and he thought that perhaps Sinbad had gone off to leave him in peace (which was very unlikely). He tensed ever so slightly, waiting for an ambush. As predicted, within seconds he found Sinbad’s grinning face several mere inches away from his.

“What do you want?” Ja’far asked flatly, staring straight into Sinbad’s twinkling eyes.

“I’m going to kidnap you!” Sinbad announced unceremoniously.

“No, you’re not.”

“Watch me,” Sinbad’s eyes twinkled like molten gold as he captured his advisor’s lips in a quick kiss. Ja’far’s jaw fell, his already tightening grip on his blades slacked. Within the moment of distraction, Ja’far felt his body lifted from his chair and swooped away onto Sinbad’s strong shoulders.

“SIN!” Ja’far yelled, trying not to sound girly as his king held him like a sack of flour, ready to escape the palace through the open windows.

“SIIIIN!!!” Ja’far yelled even louder as Sinbad jumped down the window with Ja’far in tow. The king’s laughter boomed, his hair whipping around wildly as their bodies gave in to gravity.

It took Sinbad several plates of Sindria’s finest seafood for lunch before Ja’far forgave him.

* * *

 “Do you want some tea, your highness?”

Sinbad lifted his head drowsily from his desk. He’d somehow managed to finish reading and approving Solomon knows how many documents, and decided to take a quick snooze on his desk when he found Ja’far knocking on the door.

Sinbad smiled as his eyes were fixed on Ja’far’s form, clad in his usual robes, bathed in rays of sunset coming through the windows.

“Sure, why not?”

Ja’far came in, bringing a tray with a pot of tea with two cups. As he set the tray on a coffee table in the luxurious office, Sinbad asked, “What’s the occasion? It’s not usual for you to spoil me like this.”

Ja’far’s face stiffened a bit and his cheeks reddened. “Well, I noticed that you actually managed to finish your work on time today, so I thought it might be good for you to relax.”

Sinbad was dumbfounded for a while, but then he gave his usual, happy grin, which only caused the silver haired man’s face to redden even more.

“Thank you, Ja’far.”

* * *

A soft knock came as Ja’far was changing into his sleeping robes. It was really late in the night, as Ja’far was forced to finish reading several scrolls before finally going to bed.

He gripped his blade, wires that never left his arms tightening along with his grip.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Sinbad’s soft voice came.

“Sin?” Ja’far said suspiciously. He padded softly to the door of his room and asked, “What is it?”

“Can I come in?”

Ja’far sighed. After weighing the possibility that it might be an intruder disguising as the king, Ja’far dismissed the possibility and decided that killing an intruder should be easy enough. Would be a messy ordeal though, and mopping blood off the wooden floor would take him forever.

Ja’far slowly opened the door, and was relieved to find that it was indeed his king standing outside his door, clad in his casual robes instead of in his royal attire. His hair was falling around him like dark curtains, no longer bound into a ponytail like it usually was.

Sinbad smiled, but Ja’far thought he saw the taller man’s hands tremble.

“What’s wrong, Sinbad?” Ja’far asked cautiously.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“What?” Ja’far asked incredulously. He sniffed the air, but didn’t manage to find any trace of alcohol wafting from Sinbad’s breath.

“I’m not drunk,” Sinbad stated simply, his smile slowly subsiding into a tired expression.

“Then what is it?”

Sinbad didn’t answer. Finally, Ja’far grabbed his king’s hand and dragged him inside his bedroom. He noticed how cold Sinbad’s hand was.

“Here, just lie down,” Ja’far steered the taller man to his empty bed. Sinbad obediently sat down, and Ja’far soon follow suit.

“What happened? Can I get you anything?” Ja’far asked, his voice heavy with worry. All traces of sleepiness vanished at the unexpected arrival of his king.

“I… I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

Ja’far quirked one eyebrow at the statement. Sinbad usually slept like a log and was proud of it. Back when they were younger, Ja’far would always be the one whose slumber was plagued with nightmare, not his older companion.

“That’s rather unusual. What was it about?” Ja’far asked, putting one hand on the taller man’s shoulder as they sat bathed in the moonlight.

“The day my mother died.”

Ja’far’s eyes widened. Sinbad’s parents was not a subject brought up often, but he’d once told Ja’far about his mother; how he’d come back from his first dungeon diving, bathing in treasures and brandishing a djinn-infused weapon, only to find his mother dying.

“Ja’far… I’ve always been so sure about my own fate. Whenever we dived into a new dungeon, I’d always been so sure that I would leave the dungeon alive,” Sinbad’s voice was steady as he stared onto the floor, not looking at the silver haired man beside him.

“I know, Sin,” Ja’far said softly, his hand tracing soothing circles on Sinbad’s strained back.

“But… I guess I’ve never given the fact that you, Ja’far, or practically anybody else, could die anytime. My fate I could be sure of, but others’…” Sinbad’s voice trembled.

Ja’far continued tracing circles on Sinbad’s back, but when he spoke, his voice was steely, “I’m not going anywhere, Sin.”

“But you don’t know what will happen in next year, next month… even tomorrow, Ja’far.”

Ja’far gritted his teeth. “What makes you think that you’re the only one who can be sure of his own fate?”

Sinbad averted his eyes, not looking at Ja’far.

“I’ve told you hundreds of times, Sin. I will follow you to the end. I will not die until you die, or until you tell me to,” Ja’far said, his grip on the taller man’s back tightened.

“Ja’far…”

“You should try to get some sleep. It’ll do you some good,” Ja’far finally said, gently pushing the older man to lie down on the mattress. To his relief, Sinbad didn’t refuse his suggestion.

As the older man lied down on his back, Ja’far stood up to close the curtains.

“Don’t,” Sinbad’s voice stopped Ja’far. “Can we just leave the curtains open? I want to be able to see your face.”

“Are you sure you can sleep that way?” Ja’far asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” Ja’far left the curtains be and soon joined Sinbad on the bed.

They lay side by side, when Sinbad suddenly turned to look at his advisor’s figure, bathed in the soft moonlight.

“What is it, Sin?”

“You’re beautiful,” Sinbad’s tired and strained expression eased into a soft smile. He reached his fingers to tread through the silver strands of Ja’far’s hair, glowing in the moonlight.

Ja’far turned his head and stared into Sinbad’s eyes, dark gold in the night.

“Thank you, Sin.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
